


Love and Guts in the Time of Witchers

by james



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Slice of Life, mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Just a day in the life of a bard.  Subtitled: Witchers are used to gross.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 18
Kudos: 140





	Love and Guts in the Time of Witchers

It’s after the thing is dead and Jaskier has mostly avoided being hit by any of the flying bits and pieces. He’s checked his clothes and they’re mostly fine, flicks a piece of something off his leg and is pleased to see it hasn’t left a smear of goo behind. He has been through so many pieces of clothing in the pursuit of his Art, his Craft, so much suffering of textiles, honestly, it doesn't bear thinking about -- though he will gladly tell Geralt all about it at the first opportunity. Again. 

Jaskier always ignores him when the man suggests wearing cheaper, plainer clothing that won't be destroyed by a bit of viscera. _As if._ (He makes an exception for when he's slipped on one of Geralt's shirts, because no one then sees him except Geralt, and his lover's reaction to that is the entire point of doing it.)

Speak of the Witcher, he hears Geralt walking over and Jaskier looks up, smiling, grateful to see that even he has somehow managed to come through relatively unscathed for a change. 

“See, this is why Witchers should always use ranged weapons,” Jaskier says, spreading his arms to encompass both of their appearances. "Keeps you _out of range._ Almost like that’s what they’re for.” He stops because Geralt has been looking him over, like always, checking for any signs of damage. As though Jaskier wouldn’t have been complaining long and loudly by now if he – or his lute or his clothing or his dignity – had been damaged in the slightest.

But Geralt is still walking forward, coming closer and there is a very focused look in his eyes as he is staring at Jaskier’s mouth.

Jaskier obediently holds still, because this…thing between them is not new, exactly, but discovering that the man he loves will freely show affection still feels wondrous and new and exciting, and Jaskier is determined to not spook him out of it for, well, for forever.

“You have,” Geralt says, and he's still looking at Jaskier’s mouth, and Jaskier grins quickly before schooling his expression into something that maybe doesn’t scream yes, kiss me you mad fool. “Some..on your…” Geralt raises a hand as if to gesture, as though it isn’t perfectly obvious what he's doing, then he leans in and licks him.

Jaskier blinks. He watches as Geralt _chews._ Chews and swallows and–

“Did you just _eat monster guts_ off my face?”

“No point in wasting it,” Geralt says, then he moves away and heads back over to where the shattered bits of monster corpse are spread, and begins gathering up the parts he wants to keep.

Jaskier watches him, waiting for a moment to make sure _that just happened._ But Geralt is just moving around, pulling things off bones and spines or whatever, putting them into a bag like he's shopping at the market. Jaskier can’t honestly decide if he wants to yell at him to get back here and give him his kiss, you asshole, you knew what I was thinking or if he wants to go find a quiet spot to throw up in. 

Probably both.


End file.
